Please note, this post is a follow-up to blog entry, ""Running a Marathon and Beyond" just below. You may wish to read that entry first for background info.

I managed to get my training in, including a 2 week taper before September 12 came around. I went up to Haliburton on September 11, excited to be rooming with Barrie running friends, Brenda and Kathleen, and new friends we made at Dirty Girls.

At the pre-race dinner, veteran ultrarunner, Ron Gehl collected a thousand mile buckle for completing ten 100 mile races at Haliburton with everybody rising to give him a standing ovation. Ron had saved me at Limberlost when I started feeling really zapped and unable to take in another sickly sweet gel, he convinced me to eat half of his granola bar or things would get worse for me. He was right. After getting it down, I started to feel better and managed to keep my stomach on an even keel for the rest of the race.

That night, I tossed and turned while having some bizarre dreams that had me traveling all over the place. I didn't even hear when Brenda got up at 3:00 a.m. and although I set my alarm to wake up at 4:30, got up at 3:45, eager to eat and get myself organized for the 6:00 a.m. start in the dark. I vowed to start off slow and keep it slow and steady like a turtle for the entire 50 miles, very much aware of the bonk I experienced at Limberlost and that I had another 24 km farther to run.

As we started, the glow of all the headlamps almost made the road visible without one. It was a cold 8 degrees C outside, but I knew I would warm up quickly and could push down my arm sleeves when I did. The road was so peaceful and quiet and as we entered the forest trails, the morning light just barely illuminated the lake we were to run around counter clockwise on the way out. I was really enjoying the magic and mystery of the forest, it's soft floor and treed views peeking out to the lake. I took my time. I power hiked the hills and knew I had many hours ahead of me so I'd better conserve my energy.

Still smiling 1 hour into the Haliburton Forest Ultra - 9/12/15

Unlike my previous races this summer, I wasn't drenched in sweat right off the top so I could space out the time between taking electrolytes. I was on a regular schedule fueling with gels starting at 45 mins in and alternating with food every half hour. At the aid stations, I ate whatever I felt my body wanted - bananas, peanut butter and jam sandwiches, boiled potatoes with salt and even tried mint oreo cookies. My stomach was able to handle all of it just fine.

I got to the 40 k turnaround feeling pretty darned good around noon, thinking I had a good chance of finishing around 6 pm, in time for the 50 mile awards presentation and post-race dinner. At the aid station, I went into my drop bag to fetch some Traumeel and put it on areas that could potentially cause me trouble as the race progressed, namely my tail bone and hips. I also mixed up a water bottle of VEGA energizer, knowing it contained anti-inflammatories like Devil's Claw and could potentially help ward off the aching that inevitably occurred after a certain number of kms in every race. I took my huge pack of gels and a power bar so that I could continue to fuel regularly independent of aid stations if needed. I was optimistic and set off feeling decent for another 10 km when I arrived at aid station #6. I had done most of the first half of this race running solo for long stretches so I secretly hoped I'd find somebody to run with for a few hours when things weren't going as well.

It was after that aid station and around 60 km when things started to go south as my GPS watch battery died even though it was supposed to have lasted for 15 hours on the new settings I had made a couple days before. I thought, "Oh well, it's not going to be as easy to continue with my fuel and salt schedule without my watch, but I will try to do it by feel and make sure I eat at every aid station."

At 9.5 hours in, when I'd run farther than I ever had before, my mind started to involuntarily dredge my subconscious for every depressing thing I'd ever experienced in my life and a cascade of feelings overwhelmed me to the point where I felt I could lie down on the side of the trail, curl up in a ball and start wailing. Try as I might, none of the mantras or mental tricks I was trying to get myself out of that headspace was working so I was extremely grateful when Jack Judge caught up with me or I caught up with him and I had somebody to talk to about what I was experiencing.

Running with Jack Judge (center) near Aid Station 2 on the way back to the finish

Jack, an inspiring fellow, was on his 10th attempt to complete the 100 mile race at Haliburton in less than the 30 hours. The year before he finished in 32 and change, but his result was never officially logged because he came in after the cut off.

Jack was able to tell me that this sort of emotional breakdown is a common experience in ultra running, the brain's response to extreme fatigue. Just talking about it made me feel much better. It also didn't hurt that Jack had a monk-like demeanour, being a long-time student and teacher of Zen. Just being around him made me feel more grounded and level-headed.

Soon enough, Ron Gehl entered the fray and his oddball hilarity was just what I needed. He encouraged Jack to tell me a story he shared with him before as he knew it would be long segue that would serve to keep my mind off how I was feeling. Then, Jack proceeded to tell me about a story reported in the mainstream media about the collision of a sailboat with a ship and how it didn't add up. He spoke of how he learned about 16 year old Australian Jessica Watson who was making her attempt to be the world's youngest circumnavigator. That story lasted at least 2 hours with many interjections by Ron to make me laugh as I complained about this or that.

At a certain point, I started feeling really nauseous, like I was going to throw up. Ron then mentioned he had something to share with me, but that I must never tell anybody what it was or I would let his secret out and he wouldn't have the same competitive edge anymore. He reached into his bag and pulled out a fistful of a food I would never imagine I could stomach at that point. The thought of it was revolting actually, but because he got me through Limberlost when I was at a low point, I trusted him and his many years of ultra running experience and forced it down.

Five minutes after I ate the stuff, I started to feel like I was coming back to life and my stomach settled. I was amazed. I marvelled at how I could feel so much better after feeling so bad and Ron warned me that I would probably experience more lows as the race went on and that this too was natural. He was right. I got light-headed and asked him why and he said it was because I was getting to the max of all that I could handle, but that I should keep eating, drinking and taking salt. Also, under no circumstances should I try to delay veering off the trail to relieve myself if my body was sending the signals. I found out that when I went as soon as I felt I had to go, I saved a bunch of mental energy I needed to finish the race and would feel stronger physically immediately after.

As somebody who loves the taste of coffee and tea, but has a hard time with caffeine, I find that ultra races are the only time I can consume caffeinated gels or drinks without going absolutely bonkers. So, as I got closer to the finish and started eating more protein-rich food, I also made sure I was drinking Coke at every aid station. I had stopped eating gels a couple hours before, but made myself take a blackberry Roctane GU approximately 45 minutes before I got to the finish. I also waited at the last aid station while one of the volunteers went inside their trailer to get me a fresh cup of soup as I figured I needed the liquids while Ron and Jack kept on running.

Soon enough, I caught up to Jack and started telling him about how Derrick recommended I go for a swim in the lake near Aid Station 2 after the race so that my muscles could start to recover. When I realized it was getting dark and that my core temperature was dropping, I knew I wouldn't be able to do the one thing I felt would really help me. Then, I started balling full-out and lamenting this, repeating over and over again how I couldn't do what I needed to do to feel better! One of the race crew riding by on a mountain bike stopped to make sure he didn't need to pull me from the race a couple miles short of the finish. There was no way in hell I was going to stop so I put my chin up, said I was fine and kept on running.

I kept my pace and soon Jack was behind me a good distance as he had to continue after I crossed the finish to go back out and do it all over again. Not long after I passed Ron and kept chugging along. No stopping me now. Finish or die.

I was so happy when I saw the finish line. When I crossed it, I gave Brenda a big hug and started sobbing for real. So very glad it was over. I paused to receive my medal and then Brenda supported me while I staggered back to the cabin.

When I got in, Kathleen was there and gave me another big congratulatory hug and the two of them took really good care of me ensuring I got my protein drink in as soon as possible and made it to the shower to get clean and warm up. I stood, well, crouched under the water for about 20 min as I shivered away. The post-race lake dip would definitely have been the wrong move.

When I got out, I was still shaking uncontrollably so Brenda and Kathleen made sure I got into bed and layered me with sleeping bags. Kathleen, having medical training, checked to make sure I wasn't going into shock from dehydration, and assessed I needed to get some sugar into me as soon as possible as my blood sugar was crashing. I sat up as best I could while she spoon fed me her home-made berry crumble. Soon, I wasn't shaking near as much. However, a little while after, I started shaking again. Kathleen knew I needed protein to help stabilize my blood sugar and keep it from dipping again so Brenda cut up the chicken I got from my post-race meal. I also recalled that my Dad, who is diabetic, drinks orange juice to quickly boost his blood sugar when he goes low and luckily had a juice box with me so I downed that and then gnawed down a couple chunks of chicken. About 5 minutes later, I stopped shaking and felt like I was finally recovering.

About 20 minutes after that, I had enough energy to get up and dress properly so I could tidy up all my gear. I had next to no appetite so I my dinner went into the fridge. Brenda checked to see if my drop boxes were back from the aid stations as I wanted to start taking a homeopathic formula I take to help me when I'm hurting after an extreme workout or have injured myself. First time, it wasn't there so I just held tight and drank my chamomile tea. The second time she went to check, one box was back. Luckily, it was the one I needed, with the homeopathic tincture and traumeel. I had everything I needed to make myself feel better including two really awesome friends who bent over backwards to help me through.

I was wired after taking in all the sugar and caffeine I had during my race so when Kathleen and Brenda called it a night early, I finally had enough energy to get up and look for my final drop box. I found out from volunteer Gord Englund that there were a bunch of people gathered by a campfire beside the finish line if I wanted to go and hang out there. I was certainly in no shape to go to sleep nor did I have the focus to read so I went inside, layered up and then went out to the campfire. Almost as soon as I got there, somebody offered me chips and then wine while we shared stories from our race. The fire was warm and I was content. I marvelled at all the 100 mile racers who were still out there running and those who had ran incredible races in mind-boggling times.

They say Haliburton is a really special race in the ultra community and now speaking from experience, I whole-heartedly agree. The course is spectacular. The volunteers are absolutely amazing. It's well-organized. Most of all, it has a unique atmosphere and feeling of community. Runners push themselves to their limits and beyond while others stay up all night to support them, doing everything they can to help them succeed. And, when all's said and done, you can go and chill by the campfire, put your feet up and relish the entire experience with a bunch of awesome people.

I haven't posted on here since January, about the same time I decided it was finally time to cross running a marathon off my bucket list!

I developed a passion for trail running about 3.5 years ago, after figuring out that running any farther than 30 km on the road really made me feel miserable and the trails were much gentler on my body. So, I started running year round, discovering the joys of winter and night running, chasing my crazy and adventurous running pals around the forest, gradually getting to the point where running for 4 hours at a time was actually no big deal.

With the idea of working up to a trail marathon, I ran the 25 km Pick your Poison trail race in 2013 at Horseshoe Valley, scrambling up and down ski hills and then....I sold my house and embarked on the EPIC ROAD TRIP = the end of 4 hour weekend runs with my pals.

I managed to get in some really nice runs in Arizona and California, but the heat and lack of company zapped my enthusiasm to run any longer than an hour or two.

It took over a year to get resettled back in Canada, finally landing in Oakville, Ontario. Yet, when we did, I was overjoyed when I discovered this little beauty of a trail along the creek directly behind our house.

Not only that, it linked up to a whole trail system that meandered through the greenspaces and forests alongside the waterways of Oakville. I would often run from my house to the Crosstown Trail. It cuts from West to East through the north part of the town, with a break when it reaches the Sixteen Mile Creek, the main waterway upon which Oakville was founded.

Sixteen Mile Creek Ravine

There, I would find a nice little 6 km loop with some significant climbs in and out of the ravine where I would do long runs. It is beautiful through the seasons and especially gorgeous in winter.

So, as mentioned, in January of this year, I decided to cross marathon off my bucket list, but because marathon is not a common distance on the trail, I set my sights on the 50 Km Seaton Soaker Trail Race in Pickering, Ontario on May 9, 2015.

For those living in South Central Ontario, you will probably recall that last winter was pretty damned cold and there was a ton of snow, yet I was determined. I ran around and around that ravine loop for 6 hours at a time in -40 degree C temperatures with the wind. When the snow started to melt and the meltwater refroze, I strapped on my kahtoolas and ran on the ice. During that time, the totally runnable hill leading down into the ravine turned into an icy frozen slide reminiscent of a bobsled track. I am proud to say I stuck to my training plan no matter what it was like outside.

All through the winter and into the spring, I ran solo soaking in the beauty of nature, still missing my trail buddies. I was really glad when I heard there would be a group training run on the Seaton course a week before the race, so I could run with other people again. Even more happy to reconnect with a few of my old trail pals on race day!

Seaton went pretty well. It took me almost 7 grueling hours to finish, yet much to my surprise, I somehow managed to get first place in my age group! Now, I was finally able to check marathon off my bucket list knowing I'd even surpassed that distance by an additional 8 km. And, yes, folks, on the left was one of the many gnarly hills I power hiked up, definitely not the same deal as running the smooth flat asphalt of a road marathon.

Kelly and I on the Bruce Trail, May 2012

I had done it, and I was really happy to have achieved my goal. Yet, the ultra running community is a special one. Once I did that race, I was eager to keep going and continue to be a part of it all. Inspired by my good friend Kelly Anne Wald, whom I reconnected with at Seaton, I started thinking maybe it would even be possible for me to run farther than 50 km on the trails.

I figured that having a coach who could help get me to running 50 miles this year without injury would be smart. I'd heard a lot of great things about Derek Spafford of Spafford Health and Adventure from Kelly who had become a serious ultra runner. So, when I decided to do the 56 km distance at The Limberlost Challenge in July, I signed up with him with the idea it would be a step towards my goal race of 50 miles at the Haliburton Forest Ultra.

It was really awesome being able to ask Derrick all of my crazy questions about ultra running, receiving a weekly training schedule and getting regular feedback on my progress. I felt ready, yet nervous about Limberlost as I'd heard it was a tough and long course to complete. At the end of the day, what I heard proved to be true.

With four, 14 km+ loops head of me, I went out the gate pretty quick clocking my first loop in under 2 hours and feeling like maybe I could keep it up to finish in around 8 hours. Yet, the hills, soggy ground, mud and constant water crossings really sucked the energy out of my body. That, plus it was sweltering hot and humid, over 30 degrees C. On the final loop, the main thing that kept me going was knowing my kids would be waiting for me at the finish line. We had camped over at Limberlost the night before and they were volunteering as race crew and swimming while I slogged it out on the trail. Sure enough, they were there when I crossed the line. I was thrilled to see them and even more thrilled to be DONE!

Ultra running is like childbirth in that you quickly forget the pain and effort involved and only focus on it's rewards. So, soon after running Limberlost, I was asking Derrick what he thought about my running the 6 hour race at Dirty Girls. As it was only 2 weeks after Limberlost, I didn't have much time to recover so he wasn't thrilled about it. I'd heard so many good things about this race, including great atmosphere, a beautiful course, awesome swag and food. I persisted in convincing him I would take it easy and run it as a training run for my goal race.

It was another blistering hot and humid day and true to my word, I took it easy, squeezing in 40 km before the 6 hour mark.

Then, of course, I knew that the Creemore Vertical Challenge, the next race in the Ontario Ultra Series was coming up in another 2 weeks so once again I asked Derrick for his thoughts on my doing the 50k, fully expecting him to say "NO" because that would mean squeezing 3 races into 6 weeks. I was surprised when he said that as long as I could run it as a training run, it would be good preparation for Haliburton because of its long steep hills.

So, I signed up and on yet another hot and humid summer day, ran 50 k on long dirt roads and gnarly trails with my friend Liisa, whom I met and ran with the last loop and half of Limberlost. We crossed the finish line together 10 mins faster than my time at Seaton so I was pretty happy. After the race, I took full advantage of the opportunity to soak my legs in the river while replenishing my carbs with a nice cold glass of Creemore Springs.

I guess I must have sat in that cold river a little too long because a few days after I came down with the flu and spent a few days in bed. However, on the upside, Derrick mentioned that if I was going to get sick, this was a good time because I could use the time to recover from the past 3 races before completing my training for Haliburton. Looking back on it, he was right, but one never feels like there's a good time to get sick when they are in the throws of it. Then again, I was tired and I needed downtime so I was glad I had a bit of a forced break from training.

New Year's Day, the kids and I were out walking the dog when I took the photo above. ﻿This, after watching over 700 brave souls shed their clothes in below-freezing temperatures to take the plunge into Lake Ontario as a fundraising initiative for clean water in Rwanda. Rescue workers had to actually clear ice away from the waters edge to create a path to take the dip. My 8 year old son has his heart set on jumping in with them next year. Any guesses where I will be then??!

Polar Bear Dip - Lake Ontario, January 1, 2015

I spent a lot of time with family during Christmas break, eating more, exercising less and for the last week going on a vacation from reading. Surely, not your typical winter vacation done south of the border snowbird-style. What would possess me to do something like this? What could the merits possibly be of such madness? In the mid-90s, I worked in Switzerland as an advisor to high level financial risk managers. I was living the good life, making great money, traveling to different countries on weekends, and skiing regularly in the Alps. The work was interesting and so were my colleagues and clients. It was a rare environment - the kind of place where we all had 3 course lunches together prepared by our in-house Italian chef, where a California software engineer brought his Alaskan malamute to the office everyday and where the hiring process included a handwriting analysis done by a company coach. Rare, unusual. Sometimes rather unreal, especially when the TV cameras rolled in, writers from the premium high tech and business news publications visited or Benoit Mandelbrot, the genius behind fractal theory strolled in to meet with our company founder.

Around this time, I discovered Julia Cameron's book, "The Artist's Way: A Spiritual Path to Creativity", a 12 week course in discovering and recovering my creative self. I recall that this book was a catalyst for me. Amidst reading it, I ended up doing a workshop in decorative finishing and gilding at a resplendent 400 year old home in Ireland followed by traveling around the country on a solo journey following where my heart would lead me. When I got back to the office, the company founder (I won't call him my boss as we didn't have those) sensed that I was changed and was resigning. He was right. That's exactly what I did. Followed by a sailing trip to Greece and a move back to Canada. I did end up working with him again a couple years later after having my daughter, but that's another story.

Fast forward a couple decades to a month ago when a series of synchronicities led me back to my copy of The Artist's Way sitting on the same bookshelf I had taken across the ocean, across the country and back. I had returned off and on over the years to the morning pages, 3 pages of longhand stream of consciousness pages of writing, done first thing every morning. However, I had abandoned after rereading some of what I wrote, looking for pearls and instead finding a whole lot of bitching and moaning. I had totally forgotten that the morning pages are a place for us to show up with whatever is going on in the moment, to hear ourselves and to provide a space for such outbursts!

Thus, I have faithfully been doing the morning pages again. Every week of The Artist's Way marks a new phase of creative self-discovery and suggests different exercises and processes along the way. Week 4 is designed to create productive introspection and integration of new self-awareness. Reading deprivation is the key tool employed. Being true to the "no reading" ethos, I kept my time online to a minimum as posting on Facebook or writing email would inevitably provoke responses to read. In the same vein, I told my Mom with whom I usually exchange text messages with several times a day to call if she wanted to communicate. I wasn't obsessive about it, but I didn't go online to look up and collect information. I also kept texting to a bare minimum to allay any concerns that something had happened to me.

The reading abstinence felt uncomfortable as it necessitated a drastic change to the rhythm of my daily activities. I resisted and binge-watched Netflix at night when it seemed the only way to redirect my busy mind into relaxation mode. Instead of pouring over allrecipes, I relied on my own creative culinary instincts for inspiration. I collected images from magazines that appealed to me and made a sort of collage/vision board. I spent quality time with my family. I led my daughter through a kick-ass session which created a major shift in her. I played board games. I learned to knit! And, I wondered, why in the heck I hadn't done that before.

I took stock of other things I've wanted to do for years and haven't done. Things waiting for "some day". Could starting them be as simple as making a conscious decision not to read? Seriously??!

After a week of not reading, I was quietly more content. Nothing in my environment had altered really. It was just me choosing how to spend my time. Trusting myself. According to my partner, I was more "present" which felt like an accurate description. For when the mind isn't looking for all sorts of information to fill it and make sense out of, the present moment becomes more real and important.

I never realized how reading can be such an effective method of avoidance and blocking out one's inner knowing and how many different situations in life create a need to read response. After being back into reading at will mode for a day, I can honestly say that I started to feel disconnected from myself again. That doesn't mean I won't read. However, I will be more conscious in my choices to read or not, especially when I'm feeling stuck and looking for answers. Maybe then, I will pick up the funky new yarn I bought and start knitting.

When an animal catches your attention, it's always interesting to note what message it may have. Today, a cardinal flew across the path our dog Finnegan and I were walking on into some bushes.

I looked it up in "Animal Speak" by Ted Andrews, a trustworthy and recommended guidebook about animal messengers. According to Andrews, Cardinal indicates it's time to renew our vitality. It means developing and standing in a new sense of our own true self-importance.

It certainly was noticeable amongst the otherwise barren trees. I didn't get a picture this time, but it looked a lot like the one above.

Last week on Facebook, I was nominated to participate in the Black and White Photo Challenge, taking a photo per day for 5 days and posting it on my wall. I haven't done much black and white photography and this creative push had me looking at things in a way I hadn't before. We live in a world of duality and polarity. Light and dark. So often, we praise and celebrate the light and give the dark a bad rap. Yet, in my quest to take compelling photos, I realized how the dark created space for the light to shine. Shadow revealed itself an important component of form, creating depth, dimension and substance - evoking a visceral experience.

Last weekend, I attended a poignant and powerful celebration of life for Randy Boles, husband of my mentor, teacher and friend Lissa Boles, the Soulmapper. Randy was one of the wisest and gentlest souls I've ever encountered and his relationship with Lissa, well, I've never seen a couple as deeply loving and supportive of each other.

Randy and Lissa Boles

I remember details of conversations with Randy. How quick he was to recommend an insightful book he thought would be of particular interest. How he spent hours on the phone guiding me on the detailed logistics of becoming a snowbird. But, mostly, I remember his presence. Conscious, considerate and completely in his heart.

The light of his being has left an indelible mark on me. Only to be felt.

My heart walks with Lissa as she continues on her purposeful path with great courage without "Carlton - the doorman" by her side.

Over 90% of an iceberg's volume and mass is underwater. The part we can see is only a marker, a hint of something much greater beneath the surface. Often in life, we go with what we know making the best decisions we can and when they don't go as expected, blame ourselves for our blind spots. Yet, the SOUL has a mysterious yet effective way of working with the ego in order to draw us into a deeper sense of ourselves, of our vast presence outside of our minds. Sometimes, this can be painful. The ego tries so hard to get things right, to keep us safe and to avoid pain.

However, when we go into blame and self-doubt,we are missing a really great opportunity to become more intimate with ourselves and reap the rewards of the experience.

I am feeling raw over such an experience myself as I write. This time I was able to navigate away from self-blame and while I am still smarting from it, am feeling my heart more than I did before. Through this space I am also able to sense and connect with you differently than I might have otherwise.

I had a really great post lined up last week about expectation, attachment and how getting in other people's business to control an outcome demonstrates a lack of trust and often works against us. That message was truly the tip of the iceberg.

The hidden part is that it's not a mistake when we get something different than what we thought we wanted or needed. We simply need to shift our perspective and honor what we received. In the process, we are actually being called into deeper self-trust, not of the mind, but of the soul.

Through this we may also release others from the need to fulfill our expectations and take what we deem would be their next best step. We allow ourselves to honor them and their process right where they are in trust they are where they need and are choosing to be.

We then stay out of their business and free them to be who they are instead of who we expect them to be. As an added bonus, by not judging them and developing compassion, we are able to turn this heart energy inward as a gift of self-acceptance even when things don't go according to plan.

So, what to do with the pain? It's quite simple, really. Feel it. Feel and sense where it takes you. See how it allows you to be more connected to yourself and others. Then, openly ask what it's teaching you, what you can see that you didn't before. Know that it had it's purpose and say "thank you" for the understanding and experience you received.

Today, as I walked my son to school, I saw a girl riding a bicycle in front of us and in that moment the notion struck me, there was a time when the bicycle didn't even exist nor did the concept of human beings balancing on two wheeled contraptions propelling themselves down a path. Nowadays, biking is a commonplace activity and skill easily acquired in childhood. Once you've learned and gotten the feel for it, it is indeed "just like riding a bike", something you don't forget or even give a second thought to when you are pedalling along.

I became curious about the origin of the bicycle and discovered that the earliest moment a human being was said to have balanced on a two- wheeled machine was in 1816 on the draisine, invented by Karl von Drais de Sauerbrun of Germany. Apparently, he created it to help him get around the royal gardens quicker. However, this all-wood thingamajig didn't have pedals or cranks. It was more like a wheeled hobby-horse that one could push by foot and glide upon.

John Boyd Dunlop

Nobody thought of putting pedals or cranks on the draisine until nearly 50 years later when it morphed into the velocipede, also known as the "boneshaker" due to the discomfort that went with riding a machine made entirely out of wood along the cobblestone streets of the day. It took a series of design innovations and the evolution of metallurgy for the bicycle to become something that was both manoeuvrable and affordable to the masses. In addition, in 1887, Irish veterinary surgeon, John Boyd invented the pneumatic tire to give his son's tricycle a more comfortable ride and save the rest of us from a bone- shaking experience.

We often take our modern day conveniences for granted and don't think about the thought, experimentation, innovation and arduous effort that went into making them available to us. Once we learn to ride a bike, we don't usually think about the fear and trepidation of getting on for the first time, trying to find our balance, learning to brake and shift gears, falling, gaining momentum, and finally pedalling away as if bike riding was a skill we were born with.

Luckily, we may rely on the efforts of our predecessors to have gained access to a what is now an ubiquitous form of transportation and source of fun. We hop on bikes to get us where we need to go exploring the world around us more quickly than we did by foot. We don't often think about the origin of the bicycle or our first forays into riding. We just ride. And, it does feel as "easy as riding a bike". Something once you learn, you do without much thought. You embody the experience of it and it becomes second-nature. You don't ask yourself if it's possible for human beings to travel around balancing on two wheeled machines, you just DO IT.

As visionaries, entrepreneurs and creators of culture we are also innovators and inventors paving the way for future generations. Our work paves the way for others to do even more amazing things down the road. Things that may not seem possible today. Yet, it is the vision of creating something new and our curiosity that drives us forward into the unknown. When we are able to open ourselves up to the possibility of things that don't exist now existing in the future and allow inspiration in, we become the instruments of social change and have the opportunity to experience ourselves as creators.

Sometimes we get blocked or stuck and can't imagine things being any different than they are. And, there are moments when even the possibility of creating the life we desire for ourselves feels very remote. What do we do in those times?

Well, it certainly doesn't serve us to focus upon the long road ahead or how far away the dream may be relative to where we are now. So, we start somewhere. We experiment. We take risks. We do and we learn. And in taking those actions, often inspiration strikes and we gain some momentum. Then, we are riding along forgetting that once upon a time we didn't know how to ride.